


Starburts

by templorandom



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: And please do!, But anyone can read, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Let's get some varied POVs up in here, One Shot, POC Reader, Reader-Insert, Requited Crush, Secret Crush, Strangers to Lovers, Wakanda (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 08:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20225167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/templorandom/pseuds/templorandom
Summary: You were lucky enough to land a job working with Princess Shuri in her lab. Living in Wakanda was a dream, but your crush on the king was kind of becoming a problem. What were you gonna do about it?





	Starburts

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this has nothing to do with candy, but hopefully the title make sense. I love Shuri, and like, wish T'Challa was my boyfriend, so I wrote this! I imagined the reader was like, Oh, man, I can't try to hook up with the king, that's not cool, that's inappropriate, but then she is like, inspired by Megan Thee Stallion and like #hotgirlsummer, and is like, look, I like him, he's beautiful, I have to make an attempt to show him I'm into him. So, she goes for it the minute she gets a clue from him =) Also, I did make it a reader insert, but I definitely imagined the person in this story as a PoC, because it is always nice to have more representation, especially in the science world. I usually imagine my characters as PoCs regardless, but I thought I would make this more explicit, especially since Black Panther was a mostly PoC movie.

"Oh, I love this one! This album is one of my favorites."  
  
You smirked. It was kind of surprising how in touch Shuri was with American culture. But then again, she was a genius. She soaked up facts and knowledge like a sponge.  
  
You still made an effort to not be intimidated by it. She was almost a decade younger, but you were working under her, in her own lab. Now that Wakanda had opened up its borders and was sharing itself with the rest of the world, it had only made sense to learn about the most advanced technology from the source.  
  
You had applied to fellowships and positions in the states, a few in Europe, but you either never heard back or were just flat out rejected. It was hard to say which one was worse. After the first four letters, you told yourself you would hold your head high and be more determined to find something. The next four came and you ended up bawling like a baby.  
  
One late night as you scrolled through your phone-eyes heavy and swollen from the tears-you randomly came across a picture of Shuri. It was a feature in some tech magazine, where she shared a bit about her creations.  
  
On a whim, you searched for a contact on the official Kingdom of Wakanda website, and sent the most professional email you had ever written, along with you CV. She was literally royalty, with her own lab and had more intellect than all of the people who rejected you combined. If she didn't want you, then it at least you would understand why. But then, to your surprise and glee, the princess herself had actually responded.  
  
_Of course you can join my lab!_ she wrote, _But only on the condition that you bring some Flamin' Hot Cheetos for me. I love those things. And Sour Patch Kids. _  
  
_Otherwise, no._  
  
_-Shuri_  
  
You thought it was a joke, but now you were here, working as her assistant. You ended up bringing three suitcases, one full of the very snacks she had requested, and the princess had been glued to your hip ever since. She was so curious, with the wackiest sense of humor-definitely the silly, mad scientist type if there ever was one. And you had learned so much already. You still couldn't believe your luck.  
  
"Okay, I just made the most recent upgrades to the king's suit," you informed her. "It should be ready to go whenever he needs it."  
  
At that very moment, T'Challa himself strode into the lab, looking as graceful and as regal as ever. Your heart lurched for a second, and you looked down, trying to act casual.  
  
"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Shuri intoned, greeting her brother with their signature handshake. You watched them carefully; their easy, jovial rapport infectious.  
  
"You are so mean to your brother, calling me that," T'Challa teased, his angular face breaking into a smile.  
  
"It is only an expression," the princess replied, waving her hands at him dismissively. "Right, Y/N? Please tell him."  
  
You glanced up, eyes flitting between the pair. "It's true."  
  
"See? Now what do you want? And what I have told you about your shoes in my lab?" Shuri admonished, making a noise of discontent.  
  
"Can I not come here to visit my only sister?" The king asked, his features both concerned and mocking.  
  
"If you want to know how the new initiative is going, then ask Y/N. Did you know she grew up near Oakland?"  
  
T'Challa turned to you slowly, his dark eyes curious, and somewhat guarded. "Really? How interesting."  
  
You nodded, looking away quickly. Though it had been a few years since you had been back, you loved your hometown, and it was part of the reason you had pursued science in the first place. Your mother had taken you to the Chabot Center all the time growing up, and you volunteered in your neighborhood in high school, helping younger kids with their projects and assignments.  
  
It was another reason why working with the princess was so advantageous. Once you heard Shuri needed more help with the outreach center, you jumped at the chance to get involved, knowing your own roots could be an asset.  
  
But you didn't say any of this to T'Challa. You simply nodded, lips zipped. You could feel his eyes lingering on you and tried to ignore it, busying yourself with your tablet instead.  
  
When you snuck a glance at him he was facing Shuri again, and you sighed in relief. It was almost laughable how you clammed up around the king. But you couldn't help yourself. He was one of the most gorgeous people you had ever met, and on top of that, he was a royal and was basically superhuman. You turned into a complete fool whenever he was around, and you were determined to put a stop to it.  
  
You were sure that he had plenty of women throwing themselves at him all of the time. And you'd heard plenty of stories of Nakia. How strong and kind and passionate she was. How beautiful. You wouldn't be surprised if T'Challa was still enamored of her. Hell, with everything you'd heard about her you kind of had a crush yourself.  
  
You looked back at the siblings again. It seemed futile to even show any interest, and maybe borderline unprofessional? You hadn't decided yet. But something was telling you that trying to flirt with King T'Challa was a bad idea, and it definitely gave you another reason to keep things on neutral ground with him.  
  
He glanced at you again, and you gave a quick smile, your nerves getting the better of you. His eyes squinted in amusement, and you only turned away to clean up.  
  
_You are such a dumbass, Y/N._

* * *

It wasn't routine for you to be awake before the sun came up. Night time was usually when you were most productive, the quiet and dark a peaceful balm on your nerves.  
  
But ever since moving to Wakanda, you'd made it a habit to wake up early. The sunrise was like nothing you had ever seen before, and you tried your best to catch it every morning. The vibrant colors you witnessed were like a natural kaleidoscope only visible on the continent, you were sure; the shining star itself not quite as big anywhere else. It was worth the lengthy trek and much too early rising.  
  
"I thought I was the only one who knew of this place," the lilting, familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. Turning abruptly, you found T'Challa sauntering toward you. He was wearing his royal robes and looked like he hadn't even broken a sweat, though the heat was already suffocating.  
  
A small smile pulled at your lips, and you faced forward again to avoid his gaze.  
  
"May I sit?" He inquired, pointing to the empty space to your right.  
  
"It's your mountain," you replied without thinking, and immediately winced. Friends and family, and even Shuri, were used to your sense of humor. But T'Challa was a monarch-the monarch-and not one with which you were familiar. It wasn't very gracious of you to be so flippant. You wanted to fling yourself off the edge of the cliff for being so careless in his presence.  
  
His soft chuckle was deep and soothing, a relief to your ears. "Not quite, Y/N, but I understand your meaning."  
  
You nodded, sneaking a sideways glance. His profile looked calm, a little less severe and burdened than normal. "You want me to g-I mean...would you like me leave?"  
  
He turned, confusion ghosting over his features. "What for?"  
  
"I thought maybe you wanted some space. Isn't that why you came here? To not be bothered?"  
  
T'Challa's gaze on you was deep and inquisitive. "Would you not say that I have disturbed you? That perhaps you wanted space?"  
  
You grinned back at him. "Can a king ever really disturb his subjects?"  
  
"A poor one, maybe," he sighed, looking toward the expanse of the valley. "But any man has the power to disturb. He is not always entitled to what is in front of him, as much as he may want it."  
  
"Ain't that the truth," you mumbled quietly, rolling your eyes at yourself. How funny it was that T'Challa was saying those words to you. It was like the universe was sticking its tongue out at you-dangling him in front of you and saying, _You coward! You're too much of a goddamn baby to shoot your shot!_  
  
And maybe you were.  
  
He turned again at your response, brow wrinkling in amusement. "Do you relate, Y/N? Is there something you want which you cannot have?"  
  
"Well," you began, shrugging and feeling that squirmy sensation starting up in you chest whenever you got all quippy with someone. "I'm not a man. So I guess we will never know."  
  
His sudden laughter was boisterous and, honestly, kind of dorky. You had never seen him look like that before. So open. T'Challa was always....together, you would say.  
  
_Equanimious._  
  
And that's what you appreciated about him. How much self control and awareness he had. It was admirable and impressive, and just really fucking hot. But his loud, boyish laughter was endearing, and you chuckled a bit, watching him intently.  
  
"You are funny, Y/N," the king stated, a few remnant chortles peppering his speech.  
  
"I try," you replied coolly, which only made him start laughing again.  
  
And maybe you weren't so cowardly after all.

* * *

"I don't know, Shuri," you said, turning to look at yourself in the mirror.  
  
You wore a gauzy lavender gown, decorated with traditional Wakandan beads and a bodice inlaid with vibranium that looked more like armor than clothing. A perfect mix of the modern and ancient qualities that represented the country. It was beautiful, of course, but not something you'd easily find in your own wardrobe.  
  
"You have to wear it, Y/N. I had it made just for you, and as my guest, you must look the part. Also, if I have to wear tight dress, then so do you," she scolded, wagging her finger at you.  
  
You bit back a grin. "Are you sure I don't look ridiculous? I don't want to offend anyone. What if someone sees me and is like, 'What is that arrogant American doing wearing our clothing? How dare she?'"  
  
Shuri rolled her eyes. "No one will say that. If they do, I will have them beheaded."  
  
You laughed at her, but couldn't help it when your eyes got a little wide.  
  
"I am kidding, Y/N! We don't do that here," she said, and you relaxed a bit.  
  
"Anymore," you heard her whisper under her breath and you scoffed. You knew she was just trying to scare you, and you pursed your lips at her. She giggled, adjusting her necklace.  
  
You had to admit that you were excited for the ball. It was the annual celebration for Bast, the beloved goddess of the Wakandan people. Everyone had worn different shades of purple all month long, to honor the panther deity and Her ties to heart shaped herb, which was almost wiped out after the siblings' cousin had most of the stock destroyed.  
  
Shuri, being the braniac she was, had preserved extra seeds in a cryochamber, for personal study. Thankfully they were able to replenish what had been lost, and the country was ready to celebrate. Even you could tell that everyone seemed to be in a particularly festive mood this year, and you couldn't wait to see how it culminated.  
  
You walked out of the princess's quarters with her, and you felt your skin buzzing. The halls of the palace were alight with beautiful orbs that hovered mysteriously without string. Everything had a purple hue to it, and you loved it. You hadn't ever seen anything like it before.  
  
As you got closer to the grand hall, you could hear the hum of people celebrating, both outside and in. Quick, staccato beats from hand-played drums rose over the cacophony of voices, accompanied by rhythmic wooden flutes.  
  
You smiled, nodding your head to the music as you followed Shuri. Tables of food and drink overflowed throughout the hall, and people danced and laughed, wearing the most amazing clothes you'd ever seen. Bright, geometric prints, luxurious silks and linens, and shining gems and golds all caught your eye.  
  
"T'Challa!" You heard Shuri yell, and you looked up. The king was walking toward you, a soft smile on his handsome face. He wore a dark purple suit, finely cut to his frame, and you had to make an effort not to stare.  
  
"You are not late, for once," he teased his sister. He then saw you behind her, and his smile grew. "Y/N. I am glad to see you here."  
  
"I'm glad to be here," you said evenly, nodding at him.  
  
"I had to force her to come. She kept saying no!" Shuri mentioned between them, her face pinched in mischief.  
  
"That is not true!" You shot back. "I just had nothing to wear, and, you know, it's a fancy party and all that..."  
  
"You seem to have managed," the king said, looking you up and down. "You look like a true Wakandan."  
  
You glanced up at him, then away, nodding and smiling softly. "Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome!" The princess interjected. "Let us go eat. I want some jollof rice before it is all gone!"  
  
Shuri tugged at your arm and you followed, almost running into the man next to you. You mumbled a _sorry_, and kept moving forward, meeting T'Challa's gaze as you went. He laughed and waved goodbye.

* * *

You were grateful for the tight bodice you wore. It kept you from eating and drinking too much, but that's exactly what you wanted to do. Everything was so flavorful and well made, you couldn't get enough.  
  
"Y/N, come!" Shuri appeared out of nowhere, grabbing your hand.  
  
"Where?" you asked, feeling slightly woozy from the drink you just finished. The princess led you outside the palace, through a thicket of trees and bushes. It was kind of hard to see, but you let her guide you, feeling a nice buzz; this time in your head.  
  
You walked for about fifteen minutes before you reached what looked like a cave. "What is this?" you asked, sobering slightly.  
  
"You'll see," she said mysteriously, walking inside. You followed, and could hear music. The pair of you kept going until you entered a huge cavern, filled with younger people.  
  
"No grown ups!" Shuri shouted over the music, and pulled you into the crowd. You laughed, because technically, you were a grown up, but you could pretend otherwise for the sake of celebration. You both immediately started dancing, following the cadence of the song playing through the speakers.  
  
Some hours passed, and you weren't sure what time it was, but the party was still going strong. Your feet were sore and your ribs ached from laughing and the stiff vibranium in your dress. It was time to call it a night. Or morning. Whatever.  
  
You said goodbye to the princess, making sure that her other friends would get her back to the palace safely. Following the path you walked to get to the cave, you sighed contentedly. It had been an amazing night, and you were so grateful to be there.  
  
A shuffling sound made you freeze, and you held your breath. It wasn't uncommon to see animals roaming about, but at this hour, you didn't want to cross paths with anything that might bring you harm, even if it was trained. The sound got louder, and you started to back way as quietly as you could until T'Challa stepped out of the bushes stealthily, brushing leaves from his suit.  
  
You exhaled loudly. "I thought you were a rhino or something."  
  
"I think you have been watching too much National Geographic," he replied, smiling down at you.  
  
"Ha ha," you retorted, arms akimbo and giving him a half grin. "What was I supposed think? It's the middle of the night, and no one is out here."  
  
"You are out here," the king pointed out, staring intently. "And I thought I might walk you home."  
  
Your eyes widened before blinking rapidly, lips parting a bit. That wasn't what you expected him say, but it pleased you nonetheless. "Oh. Okay."  
  
"Okay," he echoed, falling in step with you. You walked alongside each other in a comfortable silence, careful to not step on any rocks or roots. Once you found the main road, it was easy to locate where you were, and you made it back your small loft in no time.

* * *

"Thanks for walking me back," you told him, nodding once. You normally would have been leery of him returning to the palace alone, but then you remembered he was literally the Black Panther. There wasn't much that could intimidate him.  
  
"You're welcome," he replied, voice soft and deep. He stood at your door with both hands behind his back, as if he wasn't quite ready to leave yet.  
  
"Uh, do you want something to drink, before you head home?" you asked quickly, opening the door.

Maybe you weren't ready for him to leave yet either.  
  
"That would be wonderful, Y/N. Thank you," he said, and followed you inside.  
  
You took off your shoes at the door, and saw him follow suit. "Oh, you don't have to do that."  
  
"It is your home, Y/N. I must respect it as a guest," T'Challa said decisively.  
  
You paused, smirking as you gazed at him. He was so polite. "All right."  
  
He looked around your place, studying the trinkets and furniture, before his eyes returned to you. "I hope I do not offend you by saying this," he started.  
  
"But?" you urged, placing a cool glass on the coffee table before taking a seat on your couch.  
  
He sat next to you, the warmth from his body intoxicating. "But...you look very lovely in your gown, Y/N."  
  
You laughed quietly. "Thank you. Why would I think that's offensive?"  
  
"You seem to avoid my presence usually. I thought perhaps you did not like me very much, and saying something like that might not be welcome."  
  
You laughed even harder. "Oh my god, no. I'm just...ridiculous. I don't dislike you at all. I've just never met a king before, and you're, you know, hot, so I was just-"  
  
You noticed how his face broke into a wide grin at your words, and you paused. "What?"  
  
"You think I'm...hot?"  
  
"Well, duh," you replied.  
  
His brow furrowed. "What does this mean, duh?" T'Challa mimicked.  
  
"It means, like, what you just said is obvious," you explained, leaning closer to him.  
  
"I see..." he trailed off, nodding. You watched him closely, not feeling that nervous anymore.  
  
"So you think I look lovely in my gown and I think you're hot. We have good taste, I guess," you joked, smiling at him.  
  
He smiled back. "I always think you look lovely, Y/N. Not just in your gown," he murmured. You looked away, feeling surprised and content for the second time that night, but he lifted a hand to your chin. Your eyes met his before he gave you the softest kiss.  
  
You pulled away, inhaling sharply, and before he could say anything else, you kissed him again, leaning forward to climb into his lap. Your heart started to beat way too fast, but you didn't care. You were too excited to care.  
  
You smiled against his mouth as you kept kissing him, grabbing at his jacket to urge it off. His hands found their way under the sheer material you wore, and T'Challa brushed his fingers across the skin of your thighs slowly.  
  
Everything about him seemed deliberate and tempered. You felt like heated steel around him and he was like water-cool and soft and fresh. Being around him stoked whatever was inside you but also seemed to calm you at the same time. You couldn't understand it, but you enjoyed it all the same.  
  
You trailed your mouth down his neck, grinding your hips against his, and he found the small buttons at the back of your dress. He tugged at them one by one, taking his time, while you did the same with his shirt.  
  
"I can't believe this is happening," you whispered, feeling lightheaded as his fingers caressed your bare back.  
  
"I am glad it is finally happening," he told you, pulling you closer. "I had been hoping for it."  
  
You released what sounded like a scoff and a laugh rolled into one. "Join the club," you whispered. Your hands spread across his chest, marveling at the hard muscle underneath. It only turned you on even more, and you could feel the slick pooling between your legs.  
  
"You are so soft," he whispered in your ear, kissing your neck gently. It was kind of hilarious how you were both having the same kind of thoughts about each other. It had been almost a year and some since you moved to Wakanda, and you had no idea what T'Challa had thought of you. It was mind-blowing and exciting, and you regretted fumbling and second guessing yourself around him. The two of you were clearly on the same page; you just hadn't known until this very moment.  
  
His hands reached under the skirt of your gown again and you felt him make his way between your legs.  
  
"Let me just..." you trailed off, standing up off the couch. You pulled the straps of the dress down your arms, then shimmied it down your legs. You almost kicked it away, but then you remembered Shuri had it made just for you, so with careful fingers you folded the bodice into the skirt and laid it on the table.  
  
When you turned back to T'Challa, he was silently watching you, his gaze simultaneously humored and lustful. You reached your hand out to him, standing up straight. He took it, rising gracefully, and you led him to your room.  
  
"You know, I've never kissed a king before," you told him, walking backwards toward your bed.  
  
"I hope it is what you expected," T'Challa replied, tone even and just a bit teasing.  
  
"It's better," you whispered, turning again to push him onto the bed. He fell back, landing as if he was a model in a perfume spread. You would have rolled your eyes at how effortlessly perfect he always looked, but instead reached for his pants.  
  
T'Challa tried to help you undress him, but he moved much too slowly for your liking. You hadn't even gotten his underwear all the way off before you were running your hands up and down his length. Wrapping your lips around the tip, you lowered your own head slowly, making sure to get him nice and wet, before you picked up a steady rhythm.  
  
Everything around you was sort of blocked out the moment you got your mouth on him. You could barely register the sounds he was making above you, because you were too busy moaning yourself.  
  
You kept following the single path your palm made along the shaft, twisting your hand as you went up and down and up again. T'Challa was practically stiff above you, his muscles bulging as he just let you go to town on him.  
  
"Is that good? Do you like that?" you asked breathlessly as you pulled away, your hand still twisting up and down on him. He nodded silently, exhaling as if he was trying to get a hold of himself.  
  
You smirked. You literally had your mouth on his dick and all he could do was nod? Clearly you weren't trying hard enough.  
  
You walked to your nightstand, reaching into the first drawer for a condom. Placing it between your teeth, you pulled it with one hand while the other slid your own underwear down your legs. You then climbed next to T'Challa-with not even a quarter of the grace and refinement he seemed to have-to slide the latex over him.  
  
He looked at you carefully, heavy-lidded eyes soft and content. His lips found yours and you kissed him eagerly, straddling him as you tried to keep your mouths attached. You grabbed him again and lined him up to your slit, swallowing him easily with how wet you were. A noise rose from his throat-a moan, maybe- but you kept on kissing him, hips now rising and falling in a smooth, luxurious cadence.  
  
This was exactly what you needed. Your body fit on his like a glove, and he was filling you up perfectly. He wrapped an arm around your waist, leaning forward to suck on the skin of your neck, and you squeezed around him, overcome by the contact.  
  
"Yes...that's-yeah, yeah, yeah," you mumbled, trying your best to let him know how much you were loving it. But even if you had wanted to form some kind of coherent thought, it wouldn't have been possible-all you could fathom was T'Challa and how amazing he was making you feel.  
  
T'Challa got a better grip of your hips and started to push you down onto him, while he plunged into you, motions purposeful and deep. You whined at the new movement and followed his lead, wrapping your arm around his neck to meet his thrusts.  
  
"I'm not gonna come before you do," you whispered against his lips, even though you so desperately wanted to.  
  
T'Challa met your gaze, eyes serious. "You will if I command it," he replied between huffs, reaching between your bodies. His hand nestled between your thighs, joining the wet mess there, and searched until he found the best angle to rub at your clit.  
  
He was still moving at the same pace-one hand fiercely gripping your hip-and circled his thumb. Slowly at first, but then he sped up until he was the one in control, and you no longer felt like you could hold back. His hand wiggled back and forth on the perfect spot while he moved in and out of you and suddenly you came, and it felt like your body was unfurling itself and bursting open.  
  
You spurt even more, warm and wet on both of you, as you gasped and wailed above him. T'Challa came right after you, his hand on you almost bruising as your walls practically squeezed him dry. You leaned on him, wiping the sweat from your brow and catching your breath.  
  
"You cheated," you whispered.  
  
A small scoff escaped his lips. "I do not cheat, Y/N. It is not honorable."  
  
"You forced me to come! And I told you wasn't going to do it before you did," you pouted, sitting up to look at him.  
  
"As your king, it is my duty to ensure your pleasure before my own," he teased, smiling at you.  
  
"You're not my king," you shot back. "I'm technically not a Wakandan citizen."  
  
"That is true," he agreed. "But perhaps I can be something else of yours."  
  
You looked out the window. The sun was starting to rise. "Maybe. I'm not opposed to negotiations." T'Challa's smile grew, and he nodded. "But first, we can sleep. And then we do that again. At least twice."  
  
"I can agree to those terms," he replied, still smiling.  
  
"And I make you come next time! No 'I'm the king' shit."  
  
He laughed, planting a kiss on your temple.


End file.
